


Knocked Love Out

by Foophile



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Dysfunctional Brothers, Fighting, M/M, Rough Sex, teen!michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 10:04:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5963286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foophile/pseuds/Foophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael was just supposed to be learning how to fight, but as usual, his brother can’t really teach him anything. </p><p>Originally written in 2010 for Rounds of Kink with a prompt from Clair_de_lune.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knocked Love Out

Michael was just supposed to be learning how to fight, but as usual, his brother can’t really teach him anything. The first punch takes Michael by surprise because it hurt, damn it, and Lincoln isn’t pulling his punches like a big brother would to his younger sibling. Lincoln has his mad-at-the-world face on and Michael’s confused. Hurt.

What did he do? Michael wants to ask.

Then Lincoln strikes again like a deadly rattlesnake and as his head snaps to the side again, Michael sees red. He’s tall for his age but still reedy all over with limbs that get in his way more than they help him move. Yet Lincoln is still larger than him, more solid in the shoulders and thighs from all of that needless fighting of ‘the man’. He still shoves Michael around, yanks him into his underarm for noogies that were endearing when Michael was ten but at seventeen are infuriating. Lincoln is the adult with a kid and an apartment and a job (sometimes), so he should know better, be better than this thug wanna-be with a bullshit attitude.

But Lincoln’s such an asshole.

His brother lets out a satisfying grunt of surprise when Michael slams into him. They both go down hard on the carpet and the sudden crush of their bodies still knocks the wind out Michael but he scrabbles, up to his knees and punching Lincoln with as much strength as he can muster in his stomach, his ribs. They’re sucker punches, “punk hits” as Lincoln said eloquently, but his brother’s cringing, his body curling up and trying to protect himself and push Michael away at the same time.

Lincoln’s muttering breathlessly, “Crazy little fucker – gonna beat your – what the -,” Michael gets a fist in his hair, yanks, and Lincoln’s tirade cuts off abruptly with yowl of pain. Then Michael’s off his feet completely and slamming into the ground. For a second there’s nothing but stars when his head hits then Lincoln’s in his face, eyes wide with anger and amusement, shining with adrenaline and eager for something that Michael doesn’t have the brain power to process.

Michael tries to shove his weight off of him, limbs flailing even though Lincoln’s effectively pinned him with a hand in the center of his chest. Lincoln’s got a thigh between his legs that he wedges in tighter when he tries leverage himself up and instead just skids across the carpet. Michael gasps when their hips snap together; he’s staring up at the thin line of Lincoln’s smirk when Lincoln’s bearing down on the hand Michael’s managed to get around his neck and…fusing his mouth to him.

The shock freezes everything. Michael knows he should be trying to push him away and he can feel Lincoln prepared for it, his body a thick line of tension from his shoulders to his legs, yet the sudden change of gears, the onslaught of soft affection from his brother’s lips makes him crave.

Sex between them has always been gentle and otherworldly. Michael doesn’t think of Lincoln as his brother when they do it and being so aware of the fact that he still is, still wants Michael even when they’re at each other’s throats, knocks him senseless.

Only the fight and affection remains.

The neighbors a floor down must think they’re murdering each other. And, in a way, they are.

Michael’s desperate for air and heaves a humid lung full through his nose rather than end the invasion of Lincoln’s tongue in his mouth. He leaves his right hand wrapped around his brother’s neck, squeezing once and feeling Lincoln’s body shudder, slides the other hand out from under Lincoln’s grip to claw under his t-shirt and down the back of Lincoln’s jeans.

Lincoln’s body bows between them, his hands free now to unbuckle his jeans and shove boxers and all down his hips. Michael breaks the kiss, turns his head to the side and down to look between them, and groans at the sight of his brother’s hard cock rising between his legs. He’s aware for the first time of how hot they both are, how Michael’s hand slips on Lincoln’s skin and their shirts mould to their chests, armpits, and arms. His jeans are tight and uncomfortable, his cock growing harder in the cloying damp cloth.

Michael blinks away sweat, unthinking when Lincoln shoves a knee under his ass when he tries to retreat, just balls his free fist in his brother’s t-shirt pulls him back down, the fingernails of the other scratching Lincoln’s smooth skin.

Lincoln swats Michael’s hand from his neck and sits up anyway, looking determined. Cock bobbing, Lincoln jerks Michael’s jeans and underwear down far enough for Michael to pull one leg from them. He grabs the free leg before Michael can put it down and pushes it up, Lincoln’s tongue snaking over up his calf and behind his knee.

Michael moans and jerks in response, his empty hands clenching on air and trembling for the feel of Lincoln’s skin once more. Lincoln’s own are relentless, pinning Michael’s thigh up with one hand so that he can lick the long digits of the other, stare at Michael as if he’s daring him to move away when he teases his ass with the saliva slick tips.

“Do it,” Michael rasps. His voice sounds as if it came from another, shredded and frantic. Then Lincoln shoves a finger into him, two, and Michael can’t pretend that the whimper came from anyone else. His hand blindly slaps into Lincoln’s chest and slides up of its own volition to around Lincoln’s shoulder to pull him down. When his brother’s close enough, he wraps his fingers back around his throat where he can already see blossoming bruises forming from where his fingertips were previously.

Lincoln presses into the light clench again, his eyes flaring with heat even as he curses Michael.

“You’re fucking crazy.” He removes his fingers from Michael’s ass and presses his cock inside so deeply that they’re both cursing. Michael cries out at the burn that intensifies so sharply he’s swimming in darkness.

When Michael blinks away the haze, Lincoln is smacking him lightly on the cheek with every shallow thrust. The sting is distracting and completely annoying, but Michael grins anyway and meets his brother’s dancing eyes.

He shoves his hips down to meet Lincoln’s next thrust and hisses, “Learned from the best, asshole.”

END


End file.
